Stars
by limitlesswriting
Summary: Jude thinks back on her and Tommy's relationship on her wedding night. Oneshot songfic REFORMATTED


_Disclaimer: I don't own any songs used, nor do I own Instant Star. Don't sue me, I'm poor._

**Stars**

_I remember the times we spent together  
on those drives_ I was so young then, and so in love. It took forever for you to see it, and even now, the night before my wedding, I still think back on it. You were everything, and every moment you spent with me was perfection. Even those rough moments are gone, those months you left me forgotten—the only thing I can remember are the good things. _We had a million questions  
all about our lives  
and when we got to New York   
everything felt right_ We left the label when I turned 18. You were sick of Darius, and I was sick of being their baby—the angsty kid with her guitar that no one took seriously. I wanted to find myself, and you wanted a fresh start, so we decided we'd leave, and try to make it together. The drive to New York took the entire night, but we made it—we knew we had to. I remember you telling me that it was finally perfect—that you were finally where you wanted to be. Looking out over the city that night, from the two bedroom apartment we were sharing—just friends of course—I remember being struck by the beauty of it all, looking down at the cars and people rushing by beneath our window. It was a perfect moment because you were beside me, and I knew then that everything was right. _I wish you were here with me   
tonight_ It's really silly that I miss you. I know I shouldn't, I should be excited, looking forward to tomorrow. I'll finally walk down the aisle, in a white dress I picked out with my sister and mother, holding lilies and orchids. It's almost everything I ever dreamed of. I'll say those two words, and be married to a man that I love, a man who loves me more than life itself. But I can't help but think about you, wishing you were here holding me—I can't help missing you tonight. _I remember the days we spent together   
were not enough  
and it used to feel like dreamin'  
except we always woke up_ We both signed with a small label right after we got to the city—you even started working on your album again, and I helped you produce it. We never seemed to get everything done in the day, there was always a song we wanted to write, or a track we wanted to finish. I remember how our late night writing sessions on our rooftop would always branch off topic, delving into our lives, our thoughts, and the dreams we were living. I remember telling you how I was happy with my life, and that there was only one thing I wanted that I didn't have—a family. I wanted a girl, a boy, a dog. A house near the beach, and a nice place to raise them. I told you almost everything about what I saw for myself in the future—even the clichéd white picket fence. But that night, I left out the most important part of that family I wanted so badly—you. That night, just like almost every other night we spent on that rooftop, we talked forever, caught in each other's eyes, wrapped up in a blanket, staring at the stars. You told me that no matter where I was, if you weren't with me, I could just look at the stars, and remember that moment—that night. You said if I did that, you'd be there with me. _Never thought not having you   
here now would hurt so much_ Now sitting on that rooftop alone, it seems like only hours have passed since that night. It's funny that I remember all this on this last night before I start my family—before my dream comes true. Not wanting to go back to our apartment, I sit here, looking at the empty night sky, wishing you could be with me at this moment. _I remember the time you told me about when you were eight  
And all those things you said that night that just couldn't wait_ Four years to the day we met, I remember sitting with you in front of a fire, curled up on the sofa in the corner watching you as you played your guitar, working out the chords to a song. I fell asleep listening to your voice—to the words about love spilling out—about how you had finally found the person for you. As I drifted off, I remember feeling sad, sort of empty, realizing that you couldn't be talking about me, that our relationship was the definition of platonic. No choice of mine, of course, but you had never shown an interest in me, other than that of the protective friend. I woke up in your arms, cradled to your chest as you carried me to my bed, slipping me underneath the warm down comforter across my queen sized bed. As you gently placed a kiss on my forehead, I grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers in mine, pulling you down next to me. I didn't even have to say a word for you to know that I wanted you there to hold me. And as we lay there, you began talking, telling me about your childhood. You talked about your grandfather, how you two always went fishing, and he would always give you advice. Your father wasn't around, so he was all you had. He told you on one trip, about how he met your grandmother. How he had known she was the one the moment he laid eyes on her across a crowded restaurant. You said that he told you true love was only once in a lifetime—you only had one chance, one perfect match. As I began to drift back to sleep, you told me he said that everyone had a soul mate, and you knew from the moment you met them. Smiling as I snuggled into your arms, your stomach pressed against my back, I was startled by your next words. My eyes snapped open as you began to whisper in my ear, telling me that you loved me. That you had known I was the one for you the moment I walked into G-Major, red hair and all. You told me that you wanted the girl, the boy, the dog—even the white picket fence. But most of all, you wanted me. _I remember the car you were last seen in  
and the games we would play_ As I walk into my apartment, my eyes are drawn to the key rack next to the door. Reaching up, fingering the small silver key ring hanging next to mine, I smiled fondly, remembering the little blue Viper. God, you and your car. It was always about your baby. It brought us to New York, and in all honesty, brought us together. Half the memories I have of us involve that thing. The first day I spent with you down at the docks—the day I realized I was falling for you. I remember seeing you leaning against that car, and try as I might, I couldn't help but feel giddy, like a girl with her first crush—which, looking back, I guess that's pretty much the truth. My favorite though, was my sixteenth birthday. When you took me to that parking garage to give me that driving lesson, I felt special. I never laughed as hard as I did that day, looking at the fear on your face as I stalled the car out over and over, almost running into poles. Honestly, I'm surprised you still fell for me after that incident—I still think the car was your first true love. _All the times we spilled our coffees   
and stayed out way too late_ After that we were inseparable, and we made sure everyone knew it. I remember going out to restaurants, to clubs, everywhere we could together, always stealing kisses. We were wrapped up in each other, and so in love—everyone saw it. Every night, we always came back to the roof—a ritual of sorts, coffee from the nearest twenty four hour diner in hand, falling over ourselves. Actually, me falling over myself—you never drank, for some reason or another. I'd always assumed it was because you were past your party years, and preferred to laugh at my drunken antics. We'd sit up there and talk, looking at the stars, telling any secrets we still had—not that many were left. I felt like we knew everything about each other—like I had known you since before I was alive. _I remember the time you told me about your Jesus  
and how not to look back even if no one believes us_ One of those nights, I finally remembered to ask you why you never drank—I actually couldn't recall ever seeing you have a beer with dinner. That night you told me the biggest secret of all—the fact that you couldn't drink, for fear of what it would do to you. You told me about your years with Boyz Attack—the partying, the drugs, the drinking. You told me that you don't even remember half of the concerts you put on—that you weren't sober for almost three years. You said that it ruled your life—that it ruined your life, and you didn't want that to happen anymore. You hadn't wanted that since you signed on to produce Georgia's contest winner. I had saved you from all of it, before I even knew you, and you told me that was just another reason you loved me even more than I'd ever know. _When it hurt so bad sometimes  
not having you here..._ All I have left of you are those car keys and the rest of your belongings. I couldn't help but wonder at the irony of it all. You were hit that night, on the way to dinner—a celebration of our first anniversary, broadsided by a drunk driver as you hurriedly drove through the rain soaked city, their car spinning out of control into yours as it made a turn too fast on the slick streets. I remember collecting your things from the coroner's office, going through your pockets, and finding the box. A simple black velvet box, unopened in the pocked of your jacket. I remember crying as I saw it, that perfect ring. Watching as I slipped it onto my own finger, I collapsed on my bed, wondering how I'd ever go on with out you. _Tonight I've fallen and I can't get up  
I need your loving hands to come and pick me up_ I fingered the ring again, looking down at it hanging around my neck as I sipped the glass of wine. It had been four years to the day since that horrible night, and it was still fresh in my mind. I had no idea why I chose the date I did for my wedding tomorrow. One day after the day I met you. One day after I realized my life was over. Four years after the day I knew I had to start over. I don't know if I can do this—if I can completely move on. Brian is wonderful, a lawyer who is friends with Sadie's husband. He loves me so much, and I love him—but I could never feel the way I did about you. You were my one true soul mate—my other half. You were me, and I was you. Grabbing my iPod, I headed for the roof again, spinning through the songs until your voice was in my ears.  
You never released your album—it was never finished before you died. But I had all the songs you'd recorded, and listened to them whenever I missed you, whenever I wanted to go back to when I was truly happy. As I listened to you sing about our lives, about how in love we were, I wrapped your leather jacket tighter around my body, looking up at the sky as the tears began to trail down my cheeks, smiling as I remembered every moment we shared. _And every night I miss you  
I can just look up  
and know the stars are   
holdin' you, holdin' you, holdin' you tonight_


End file.
